


indulgentia

by king_edmund



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Clone Wars, M/M, Post-Deception Arc, pwp except its like...... sad i guess, we out here with some uhhhhh feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 09:10:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19315099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/king_edmund/pseuds/king_edmund
Summary: "You can't leave me," Anakin says, the attachment heavy between them, and Obi-Wan says, "I won't," and it barely feels like a lie.(Or: Obi-Wan tries to regain balance with Anakin after faking his death.)***2019 Hugo Award Winner, Best Related Work





	indulgentia

The door chimes, and Obi-Wan stares as Anakin waits on the other side. A moment too long, and he stands, crosses, palms it open. Their bond is still uncertain, raw with silence. Anakin holds his distance, across the threshold and in the Force, and Obi-Wan aches a little, misses Anakin's fire roiling beneath his skin. "I wasn't sure you knew about doorbells," he says, and Anakin starts, rolling his eyes a half-beat too late. "I didn't think the door locked," he replies, but he waits for Obi-Wan to take a step back before pushing into the room.

"Once was enough," Anakin says, leaning against the balcony rail, only half-in Obi-Wan's space. "Next time you have to stay dead."  
"Third time's the charm," Obi-Wan tries, and instead of the harsh laugh he's expecting, Anakin flinches. He puts a hand to Anakin's neck, fingers tangling in his golden curls, and Anakin leans fully into him, pressing their foreheads together. "You can't leave me," Anakin says, the attachment heavy between them, and Obi-Wan says, "I won't," and it barely feels like a lie. Anakin breathes him in, eyes fluttering shut, and Obi-Wan feels a whisper of relief, the Force flowing easier around them. Anakin kisses him, and Obi-Wan lets him.

Anakin sinks his teeth into the meat of his thigh, and Obi-Wan hears himself gasp, a soft, high sound, and he rocks his hips forward into Anakin's grasp. Anakin nuzzles the bruising skin, pressing a gentle kiss between the half-circle marks of his teeth, mouthing up to his cock, the feel of synth-skin strange against him. Anakin goes slow, possessed with a patience, an unfamiliar focus, savoring Obi-Wan like a last meal. He strokes a trembling hand through Anakin's hair, and Anakin looks up, meets his gaze, and Obi-Wan falls.

He's not unfamiliar with Anakin's cock, pressed against his back in tight quarters, hanging thick and heavy in the showers. But the silky touch of it against his hip is new, like Anakin's teeth at his neck, like their legs tangled together on the sheets. He can taste himself on his Padawan's tongue, sweat and spunk. He blinks, and for a moment can see himself through Anakin's eyes, ruined and loose, gasping for breath through Anakin's love. Shaking, Obi-Wan releases his desperation into the force, but Anakin seizes it, matches it, and Obi-Wan remembers again that he is but a candle to Anakin's sun, outstripped in every way. He breathes slowly, deliberately, and a decade of practice brings Anakin in sync, matching each other as Anakin rocks his hips, slowly, gently, with a tenderness Obi-Wan almost cannot bear. _I'm sorry_ , Obi-Wan says, lips soft, the whole of him malleable to Anakin's touch. _Forgive me_ , he begs, with the spread of his thighs. He clutches at Anakin's waist, nearly lost in the stretch of him, the fever-heat of his skin, the choking grip of him in the Force. His breath hitches as Anakin pulls out of him, finally softened. Anakin presses a single finger back in, the synth-skin less strange now, presses a kiss to Obi-Wan's jaw, still bare, the last reminder of his deception. He's back under Obi-Wan's skin, part of his every move, his fire beating through Obi-Wan's own veins.

He dresses the next morning, woken to an empty bed, pulling raw silk and worn linen over the marks on his thighs, his hips, his neck. He does not look at the mussed sheets, opening his windows to the Coruscant smog to banish Anakin's lingering presence. The chirp of his comm drags him into the world again, and Obi-Wan takes just a moment to tuck away their indulgence somewhere deep and close in his mind, nearly forgotten, almost gone.

**Author's Note:**

> anakin is a pillow princess probably except that obiwan does spend all of the war really needing to get railed. that's the hot take or whatever


End file.
